


I think we need to talk

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Coffee Addict Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Communicating, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Jackson is a Good Friend, M/M, Stackson Brotp, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23371198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “Oh my God, he’s gonna break up with me!” Stiles blurted out, stopping in the middle of the aisle he was in and crouching, feeling his head spin and his chest clench. “He finally realized I’m not worth it and he’s trying to distance himself to break up with me!”“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jackson demanded, holding up two different brands of soap and inspecting them like he wasn’t sure which one to buy. Stiles had only come along with him because he was scared to go home, and watching Jackson try and decide between different brands of things was funny.He’d grown up rich, he used to just buy whatever was most expensive. Ever since his dad cut him off, he now had to be more careful with how much money he tossed around.“Derek!” Stiles exclaimed, still crouched on the floor. “He’s going to dump me!”“That is the dumbest thing that’s ever come out of your mouth, and I went to high school with you, so that’s saying something.” Jackson ended up choosing the less expensive soap, sneering at it like it was offensive, and dropped it into his cart before wheeling away. “Get off the ground, you look like a fucking idiot.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667605
Comments: 43
Kudos: 1605





	I think we need to talk

Derek was acting weird. 

Stiles had noticed it for the first time about a week ago, and since then, he couldn’t _stop_ noticing it. Like a rock in his shoe, or a hangnail getting caught on clothing, or a fucking car accident. He kept trying to ignore it, not notice it, but he couldn’t. 

It was just _there_. Staring him in the face all the time. Something was wrong, and Derek was acting weird. 

They weren’t exactly a touchy-feely PDA kind of couple, but they still randomly kissed each other or hugged each other. They held hands when they went out for walks, wrapped their arms around each other. Little things while not being completely overboard on it. Just to remind each other every now and then that they were loved. 

Lately, Derek had been pulling away. Every time Stiles went to hug or kiss him, Derek would find a way to duck out and then laugh it off. He never approached Stiles anymore. They ate dinner together, but at opposite ends of the table instead of right beside each other or across from each other, or even on the couch like they used to do sometimes. 

And last night, Derek had slept on the couch.

_Willingly_. 

He’d straight up grabbed his pillow and a blanket and gone down to sleep on the couch. 

It was stressing Stiles out. He’d had at least eight cups of coffee in the past twelve hours and that could _not_ be healthy, but he didn’t know what else to _do_! Well, not that coffee was the answer, but coffee made him feel better, because it was his comfort. 

Some people ate chocolate, some people had milkshakes, Stiles drank coffee. 

And it was good coffee, too. Like, the best coffee he’d ever had. Derek had found it at some little independently-owned coffeeshop that had just opened in town about a month back and had brought it home for Stiles, knowing he liked trying different kinds of coffee. It was expensive, and he had to grind the beans himself, but _man_ was it fucking _good_. 

Honestly, it was the only thing keeping him sane during these confusing, difficult times. He’d head off to work, try and kiss Derek goodbye, and get ducked away from. Which was confusing, because Derek still made him breakfast, and it was always something Stiles _loved_. So like, what the fuck? 

Literally, what the fuck. 

“Oh my God, he’s gonna break up with me!” Stiles blurted out, stopping in the middle of the aisle he was in and crouching, feeling his head spin and his chest clench. “He finally realized I’m not worth it and he’s trying to distance himself to break up with me!” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jackson demanded, holding up two different brands of soap and inspecting them like he wasn’t sure which one to buy. Stiles had only come along with him because he was scared to go home, and watching Jackson try and decide between different brands of things was funny. 

He’d grown up rich, he used to just buy whatever was most expensive. Ever since his dad cut him off, he now had to be more careful with how much money he tossed around. 

“Derek!” Stiles exclaimed, still crouched on the floor. “He’s going to dump me!”

“That is the dumbest thing that’s ever come out of your mouth, and I went to high school with you, so that’s saying something.” Jackson ended up choosing the less expensive soap, sneering at it like it was offensive, and dropped it into his cart before wheeling away. “Get off the ground, you look like a fucking idiot.” 

“Jackson, you don’t understand!” Stiles stumbled back to his feet, hurrying after his friend. “He won’t come _near_ me anymore! He slept on the _couch_! Like, who willingly sleeps on that couch? It’s uncomfortable, and small, and is severely lacking in the Stiles. Why the fuck would he sleep on the couch?!” 

Stiles winced at the dirty look he got from a mother browsing the aisles with her young daughter and mouthed an apology, but Jackson didn’t seem to care much, considering what he said next. 

“Sharing a bed with you, who the fuck _wouldn’t_ rather sleep on the couch?” 

“Jackson, I’m serious!” 

“Stilinski,” Jackson said, turning to him and holding two different types of sugary cereal, “Derek is so gone for you that he still gets mad when one of us accidentally scents you. You’re gonna get home smelling like me and I’m gonna get an angry text message to stay away from what belongs to him.” 

“Wha—he does _not_ —what even are you—?” 

Jackson let out a loud, annoyed sigh and threw both cereals into his cart before fishing out his phone. He unlocked it, tapped on his messages, and scrolled up in one of them until he reached what he was looking for, turning it to face Stiles. 

The top of the message looked like it was a reply to something else, because it didn’t fit the context of the rest of what Stiles read, but he read the whole thing anyway. 

**[Jackson]**  
thx   
**[Jackson]**  
will let the guy know

**[Alpha Douchebag]**  
Were you with Stiles today?

**[Jackson]**  
yah we grabbed lunch

**[Alpha Douchebag]**  
Stop scenting my boyfriend  
 **[Alpha Douchebag]**  
I like that you’re friends  
 **[Alpha Douchebag]**  
And I know he values your friendship  
 **[Alpha Douchebag]**  
And I’m NOT being ‘that jealous boyfriend’  
 **[Alpha Douchebag]**  
But we ARE Werewolves  
 **[Alpha Douchebag]**  
And scenting means something  
 **[Alpha Douchebag]**  
Stop scenting my boyfriend 

**[Jackson]**  
cant always help it  
 **[Jackson]**  
hes pack and my friend  
 **[Jackson]**  
and im nowhere near as bad as mccall

**[Alpha Douchebag]**  
I know you’re not, but stop doing it anyway

**[Jackson]**  
yahyah territorial asshole

**[Alpha Douchebag]**  
Have you heard from Deaton recently? I can’t get a hold of him.

Stiles handed the phone back when it was clear they’d moved on to other topics, mind a confused mess. Those messages were from literally two days ago, when he and Jackson had gone to lunch together and his friend had, of course, scented him. 

He didn’t _understand_! How could Derek bitch out his Betas for scenting him when Derek himself was acting like Stiles had the fucking _plague_?! 

“He’s so gone for you, you could probably order him to murder half the city and he’d do it without a second’s hesitation.” Jackson shoved his phone back into his pocket, wheeling them out of the aisle and towards the register. Either he’d had enough of Stiles for one day, or he was honestly done with grocery shopping. 

“Then why is he being so distant?” Stiles whined, draping himself across Jackson’s back. He ignored the grumble that earned him, since Jackson was now grumping that Derek would think he’d scented Stiles on purpose again. 

“Because you’re annoying, I don’t know.” Jackson evidently didn’t know how to help him. The fact that he’d shown him those texts meant he was _trying_ to alleviate his concerns, but like Stiles, he had no idea why Derek was pulling away either. 

Stiles stayed plastered to his friend’s back up until they were done at the till. They headed out together and Stiles dragged Jackson to the coffeeshop to buy more of his preferred coffee. He’d been drinking so much of it he was almost using a bag a day. 

“Hey Monique,” Stiles called to the girl behind the till.

“Stiles! Our favourite customer! Single-handedly keeping us in business.” She winked at him while he approached, Jackson trailing behind him with his groceries and acting like this was hugely inconvenient. 

Jackson was a Werewolf, those bags weighed nothing, he could suck it up. 

“Here for the usual?” Monique asked. 

“Yeah. Maybe uh, two bags today?” It would mean Stiles wouldn’t come back for at least two days. 

That or he’d drink two bags worth of coffee because it was readily available... 

“Sure thing. Oh!” Monique clapped her hands together, grinning. “So my mom thought about what you said the last time you came in, and we actually have some _ground_ coffee. So you don’t need to grind it yourself, since it was _so_ inconvenient.” She winked teasingly at him. 

“Oh my God, that’d be amazing. My boyfriend gets annoyed hearing the grinder going all the time, so pre-ground coffee would be the _best_!” 

“It’s two dollars more, though.” 

Stiles shrugged. “That’s fine. Maybe just one bag then.” If it was already ground, there would be more of it in the bag, which explained the higher price. 

Monique pulled his preferred coffee off the shelf behind her and rang him through. He paid, thanked her, and left the shop with Jackson, who was _still_ grumping about his groceries. Seriously, the guy was so whiny. 

They climbed into Stiles’ Jeep—something Jackson _never_ would’ve done in the past, except his Porsche was in the shop and daddy wasn’t lending him his other cars anymore—and Stiles drove his friend home. He called goodbye once Jackson was walking up the drive, then felt his stomach drop at the realization that he was now heading home himself. 

To Derek. Who was avoiding him. 

He drove so slowly on his way back to the loft that one of his dad’s deputies pulled him over to ask if everything was okay. Stiles didn’t know how to talk about his relationship with someone who used to help him with his homework so he lied about having a cramp in his leg and forced himself to speed up a bit more when he went on his way again.

Apparently his slowness was for naught, because when he got home, the Camaro was gone. Stiles had exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds to panic that Derek had packed up and left—that was how long it took him to race out of the car and up the stairs, and check that all of Derek’s clothes and toiletries were still there—before he saw the note on the dining room table. 

_Gone out, back soon._   
_Wait for me for dinner._   
_D._

“Okay. All right. Cool. Fine. Awesome.” 

Stiles was still so confused, because Derek had literally asked him to wait for him for dinner, but he was also sleeping on the couch. He honestly thought Jackson was wrong. Maybe the texts were wrong. Maybe someone else had sent them? Stiles didn’t know. 

He went into the kitchen with his new bag of coffee grounds and set up the coffee machine. He brewed himself a pot, poured himself the biggest cup he had, and then burned himself with how fast he tried to drink it. 

Pouring himself a second cup, he went to his desk and sat down, staring at his screen. His mind was going a mile a minute, and while there were some things he wanted to catch up on online, like on Reddit or Tumblr, he couldn’t make himself move. 

Derek was seriously going to break up with him. But _why_?! What had happened?! 

Stiles sat staring at his computer unmovingly all the way up until the loft door slid open, snapping him out of his thoughts. He whipped around, eyes finding Derek, who was standing in the doorway looking at him just as apprehensively. 

“Hey,” Derek said. 

“Hi.” Stiles didn’t move. He just stayed sitting in his desk chair, watching Derek close the loft door and cross his arms. 

Oh no, that was defensive Derek positioning. He was about to say something unpleasant, Stiles could feel it in his very _soul_. 

“I think we need to talk.”

Oh _fuck_! This was it! This was the beginning of the end! 

“Please don’t break up with me,” Stiles blurted out. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry! We can talk about it, we can make some changes, I can—”

“Stiles,” Derek said sharply, bringing one hand up in a ‘stop’ motion. “I’m not breaking up with you. I just got back from talking with Jackson, and _why_ you think I’m planning on breaking up with you, I have no idea, because you’re ridiculous and I love you.” 

“Then why are you sleeping on the couch?!” Stiles demanded, flailing one arm towards it and almost falling out of his chair. “And you won’t kiss me! And every time I try and hug you, you pull away!” 

Derek sighed, rubbing his face. “Fuck. Okay. Fuck.” Dragging his hands down his face, he motioned the couch. “Can we sit? We really need to talk.” 

Stiles obediently stood and went to sit on the couch, bringing his coffee with him and clutching it tightly in both hands, like a crutch. Derek winced, like he wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, but he came to sit down anyway. He stayed reasonably far away from Stiles, who motioned the space between them emphatically. 

“If we’re not breaking up, what is this?” Stiles demanded. 

“Okay.” Derek sighed, rubbed his face again, and then blurted out in one breath, “I really, really hate the smell of your new coffee, it makes my nose burn and my throat itch and I hate it but you love it so much I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t drink it anymore because I don’t like it.” 

Stiles stared at him, seeing Derek wince again, like he hadn’t quite meant to blurt that all out in one run-on sentence like he had. 

It took a few seconds for the words to click in his brain, because it had been a lot of words all at once, but as soon as they did, Stiles stood up. 

“Stiles—” Derek said, like he thought Stiles was upset. 

Well, Stiles _was_ upset, but not about the coffee. About the fact that he’d been missing out on quality time with his boyfriend because the _idiot_ hadn’t told him his coffee smelled like satan’s asshole to him! 

Stiles walked into the bathroom and promptly dumped his coffee down the sink. He went to the kitchen, keenly aware of Derek’s eyes on him, and grabbed the coffee out of the cupboard. He dumped it all out into a ziploc bag, wrapped the ziploc bag in another regular plastic bag, and tossed it into the trash.

Returning to the bathroom, he ran the sink, pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste, and then proceeded to brush the shit out of his teeth, running the bristles almost painfully over his tongue. Once he was done, he brushed his teeth again, just for good measure, and also to make sure the coffee he’d tossed down the drain was well and truly gone. 

As soon as he finished, he put his toothbrush back, headed out of the bathroom, and promptly plopped himself onto Derek’s lap. 

“Will you kiss me _now_?” 

Derek’s lips quirked slightly. “I suppose I can tolerate mint toothpaste.” 

Stiles leaned in to press his lips to Derek’s, and the relief he felt at having Derek’s hand press against the back of his neck, tongue coming out to deepen the kiss, was almost overwhelming. He almost didn’t want to _stop_ , because a part of him worried it’d be another two weeks before he got this again. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me the coffee smelled bad,” Stiles insisted against Derek’s lips. “You’re an idiot.” 

“You liked it so much, I didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t have it anymore.” 

“I like _you_ more than _any_ coffee in the world,” Stiles insisted, flicking Derek in the forehead. It hurt his finger, but he didn’t care, it was the intention that mattered. “I can go back to my old brand of coffee, it was cheaper anyway.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You should be, but not about the coffee. About depriving me of my hot, sexy boyfriend for two weeks. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Derek, you were sleeping on the _couch_ last night! How could you ever think I would rather have coffee?” 

“I mean—you’re pretty obsessed with coffee.” 

“More obsessed with you,” Stiles insisted, kissing him again. “Want me to show you how much?” 

Derek smirked at him, and Stiles could feel the shift under him. He had a feeling dinner was going to be late tonight. 

“I think I’d very much like for you to show me how much,” Derek agreed, grabbing Stiles under the ass and standing up abruptly. 

Stiles scrambled to grab at Derek’s shoulders before he fell on his ass, not that he thought Derek would _ever_ let that happen. He could feel Derek’s tongue and teeth against his throat while he walked them both to the stairs. 

Oh yeah, dinner was _definitely_ going to be late tonight. 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis 
> 
> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).


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